don't look
by ipsa dixit
Summary: a collection of drabbles and one-shots, all rated m
1. dinner date

_714 words, by google docs_

* * *

 _They say that kissing is the language of love. You wanna have a conversation?_

Albus gives a sigh as he looks at the incoming message. He loves Scorpius, he really does, but this dinner meeting could be the turning point of his job. He shuts his phone off and slowly shakes his head at Scorpius, across the table. He needs to _focus_. That lasts for another thirty seconds before another text comes in from Scorpius again:

 _I'm just wondering here. Would your lips taste as good as they look? I'd like to try them._

Albus gives Scorpius A Look, trying to ignore how cute Scorpius looks with his hand pushed up in his hair. He will _not_ give in.

 _I have some hard code I want to try your compiler on._

Albus has to stop himself from making an audible noise when the third text comes in. He shifts in his seat, trying to listen to what his boss is saying about their business plan.

 _If you were floorboards I would take out all the nails and screw you._

Of course he would. Because Scorpius is Scorpius. Albus sends him a glare as his boss continues to talk about the prices and the benefits. He _needs_ this deal to go through.

 _Your lips look so lonely…. Would they like to meet mine?_

Albus clenches his fist underneath the table. Doesn't Scorpius know how important this is? Is he trying to get Albus to—well, probably.

 _Hey, why don't you come sit on my lap and we can talk about the first thing that pops up?_

That comment is completely unfair, Albus thinks. He shifts again in his seat, starting to feel slightly uncomfortable. He _always_ gives into Scorpius but not this time.

 _You make my floppy disk turn into a hard drive._

Albus can't help but silently agreeing with Scorpius on that one. He _hates_ his boyfriend, really. Still, he's wondering if Scorpius is actually…

 _Do you work for a postal office? Because I could have sworn that you were just checking out my package._

He was not! Albus was just curious to see is Scorpius was _actually_ hard at dinner, so _maybe_ he pretended to drop his napkin. It doesn't matter. He won't give in.

 _Those are nice pants, do you think I could get in them?_

Albus vows that, if he makes it through this dinner, Scorpius can get in his pants as much as he wants. He just needs to make this deal and then Scorpius can _have_ him.

 _Nice pants. Can I test the zipper?_

Albus thinks that maybe Scorpius is softening up—the texts seem to be getting tamer.

 _There is a big sale in my bedroom tonight. Clothes are 100 percent off._

Oh, there it is. Of course Albus was wrong.

 _I had a wet dream about you last night. Would you like to make it a reality?_

Not now, Albus thinks, as loud as he can. Maybe Scorpius will get the hint.

 _Let me insert my plug into your socket and we can generate some electricity._

Albus really doesn't know how much more of this he can take. Straining his ears, he tries to concentrate to see if they're close to a deal yet. Almost, almost…

 _You should sell hot dogs, because you already know how to make a wiener stand._

Albus knows it's unprofessional, but he _needs_ to adjust his pants. This _really_ isn't fair.

 _When I see you, the sea levels are not the only ones rising…_

That's it. Albus is actually about to burst. He just needs them to shake hands…

 _I'm not going to stop until you screw me in the bathroom_

Albus sighs, slipping his phone into his pocket. He gets up, looking at his colleagues.

"I'm going to use the restroom. I'll be right back."

They nod and Albus makes his way to the bathroom. He doesn't need to look to see if Scorpius is following; he knows he is. Once inside, Albus whirls around, coming face to face with Scorpius. He grabs his arm and presses his head against the wall, crashing their lips together.

"Is this what you want?" Albus asks, pulling away, his chest rising and lowering.

"You're _sexy_ when angry," Scorpius notes. Albus presses their lips together once more.


	2. massage

_314 words, by google docs_

* * *

Albus is sore. Probably one of the only perks of dating Scorpius is his profession. A masseuse. He could _really_ use a massage.

"Scorp?" he asks, as the put away dishes. He really doesn't know why his body is in knots, but it's killing him.

"Yeah, babe?" Albus rolls his eyes at Scorpius' nickname. He hates being called babe, usually, but if it means that he can get a good massage… well, he'll take it.

"Can you give me a massage?" he asks. "I've been feeling really sore."

Scorpius raises an eyebrow but shrugs.

"Sure."

…

Scorpius has little self-control. He's been trying to keep _it_ down, but between Albus' body and his moans, he really can't. There's something about massaging his _boyfriend_ that makes everythign hotter. Maybe it's his own fault for being such a great masseuse.

"Hey, Al," he says, an idea popping in his head. The only response is a moan. "I was wondering if I could practice a new technique on you?"

Albus moans again, slight nodding.

Scorpius smirks, leaning over and pressing his lips to Albus' bare back, leaving a trail of kisses down it.

"How is this?" he asks, hovering his mouth near the waistband of Albus' pants. There's a louder moan. "Shall I continue?" Another one.

Scorpius places his hands on Albus' sides, sliding them down into Albus pants. He slowly scratches Albus thigh and takes pleasure in the loudest moan yet—Albus was always sensitive there.

"Is this good?" Scorpius asks. He takes his hands out and turns Albus over, now able to see his face. He's breathing hard, his chest raising and lowering.

"More," Albus says, panting. "You're the best ma—mass—"

Albus doesn't say more as Scorpius puts his hands into his pants again, grabbing Albus' butt. He climbs onto the table, hovering over Albus.

"Oh, I know I'm the best," Scorpius says, before going down.


	3. the first time

_for ana_

 _auction - "wanna ride my broomstick"_

 _970 words, by google docs_

* * *

Theo is ready. He knows that Blaise has been ready for weeks already. The topic of them _going farther_ was brought up by him. Theo didn't think he was ready at first, and Blaise was okay with that. Blaise told him that they wouldn't have sex until Theo was ready. Reason number one why he loved Blaise.

Ever since then, Theo has been running the question Blaise asked him over and over again in his head. Now, he thinks he's ready. He just needs to tell Blaise.

...

They're in bed together. They've done this _so_ many times before, just cuddle and lay with each other, but this time something's different. This time, Theo's heart is beating a hundred miles a minute. This time, Theo wants _more_.

He's ready to have sex with Blaise.

Except he still hasn't told Blaise because it seems like his courage has gone out the window. Well, there's a reason he's not a Gryffindor. He doesn't even know _why_ he's so scared. He loves Blaise. Blaise loves him. There should be no problem.

Except he's never done anything remotely close to having sex. It's exciting.

"Blaise," he whispers into the dark. He can tell that Blaise is still awake, his head against Theo's chest and his breathing uneven.

"Yeah?" Blaise says, bringing his head up to look at Theo. Blaise's smile is _easy_. Theo has a strong urge to poke his dimple, but he clears his throat again, trying to match Blaise's smile.

"You know how you were talking about —" Theo hesitates, his breath catching in his throat. He clears his throat, trying to start over. Maybe he should just hit it straight on.

"What?" Blaise asks, brushing a piece of Theo's hair out of his face.

"I want to have sex with you."

Blaise smiles brightly, but immediately wips the smile from his face.

"You're sure?"

And, honestly, the question itself makes Theo blush to his ears because _damn he loves Blaise for double-checking_. It doesn't change his answer, though.

"So sure," he confirms. Blaise nods and Theo can tell that he's repressing a grin.

Blaise snakes his hand around Theo's neck, pulling him in for a kiss and —

Blaise has been holding back. Theo's mind can only think that Blaise has been holding back from _this_ because they've kissed before, but apparently they haven't _kissed_. Or maybe it's Theo's jitteriness that they're actually going to _do it_ , that he's practically going to seal the deal with Blaise. This is huge.

And Theo is kissing Blaise back, but he can tell how much Blaise has _wanted_ this because he's trying to keep up, but Blaise is kissing him with _such vigor_ and he's…

Gah.

Theo matches Blaise's motions, grabbing Blaise's neck and wrapping one of his legs around Blaise's.

Blaise's tongue grazes Theo's teeth and he can feel Blaise's hands move down from his neck to the hem of his shirt. He gives it a little hug. It occurs to Theo that they probably _should_ get undressed if they're going to have sex. It also occurs to Theo that he's going to have to pull away from Blaise which he doesn't want to do; what if Blaise doesn't kiss him with as much vigor when they come back together?

Blaise pulls again, upwards this time and Theo feels his shirt go up. He pulls away for one second, two seconds, three seconds — far too long — to pull off his shirt and he grabs Blaise as soon as he gets it off, deciding to take control of their kiss even though he has no idea what he's doing.

And then he's hard.

And. Oh.

He's been _hard_ before, but he's never been hard with _somebody else there_. Theo's pretty sure Blaise's eyes are closed — his eyes are closed as he presses their lips closer together — and he's glad because he's also pretty sure he's blushing _way_ too hard. He shouldn't be blushing — Blaise is hard, too. Right? Theo isn't just _weak_. ...right?

He's putting way too much thought into this, he thinks, so instead he puts his focus into grazing the top of Blaise's pants, tracing his fingers around Blaise's hips. Blaise moans a little bit into his mouth and Theo smirks — he feels _powerful_. Blaise grabs his ass, pulling them even closer — Theo didn't even think there was any room left between them — and they're just a mess of kisses and limbs and Theo's heart is going so fast.

Blaise pulls away, his hands cupping Theo's face. A tiny moan escapes from Theo's mouth, because he really doesn't want to stop kissing Blaise but he takes a little pride in noting that Blaise's face is flushed.

"I'm just going to —" Blaise shifts them, until Theo's laying flat on his back and Blaise is hovering over him. Theo opens his mouth, because he realises that he's been _way_ too quiet. He needs to say something, anything.

"You look like a good Quidditch Player. Want to ride my broomstick?" Theo says, blurting out the first thing in his mind. He then cringes because Blaise has one eyebrow raised. He doesn't look impressed.

"No," he says, shaking his head.

"Did I just kill it?" Theo asks, feeling slightly deflated. He has no idea what he's even supposed to do. It's not even like it's a _bad_ pickup line!

"You slightly killed it," Blaise says, nodding. He takes one finger and traces Theo's hairline, but he doesn't stop laying over Theo. That's good, right?

"Oh."

"Just — let me to the dirty talk," Blaise says, giving Theo a soft smile. "You just stay there at look pretty."

Theo smiles and nods as Blaise brings his head down, pressing their bodies — and more importantly, their _lips_ — together.


End file.
